In Your Tears
by TheRealRenee
Summary: // Chapter 20 now up \\ The bet between Jericho and Christian has unthinkable consquences... Lita/Edge, Trish/Jericho, Christian
1. Default Chapter

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"This is gonna be so great!" the man insisted, a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. He grinned almost maniacally at the thought of getting his hands on her - the bitch... Finally... 

"I really don't know about this, man..." Y2J Chris Jericho ran a hand over his face, not concealing the displeasure he was feeling. 

"What's with you?" Christian demanded, giving his friend a look. "Are you getting soft or something? I would think you'd be happy for this opportunity - to get *physical* with Trish!" He laughed loudly, his lascivious meaning crystal-clear. 

Jericho shifted his blue eyes down, a feeling of regret running through him. Damn it, he hated that he and Christian had ever made that stupid bet. And for a whole Canadian dollar, at that! And it had all led up to this ridiculous Battle of the Sexes match tonight at Armageddon - himself and Christian against Trish Stratus and Lita. It was sheer madness, and Chris didn't want to take any part in it. The *last* thing he wanted to do was hurt Trish... Sweet Trish... 

While the bet had started out as very real more than a month earlier, Y2J had to admit to himself that things had changed - *he* had changed. The little blonde diva had changed him, and for what he hoped was the better. Trish had seen the real him, the *real* Chris Jericho... 

...And while he hadn't planned on it, he had fallen in love with her... 

Chris raised his crystal gaze back up to meet the blue eyes of his friend. Christian looked way too excited about the impending match. Damn it, if only that jackass Eric Bischoff had allowed him a word in edgewise... 

"I am gonna make Lita *so* sorry for messing with me! Or maybe for *not* messing with me..." 

Y2J ran his hand over his long blond hair. This whole thing just felt so wrong... 

"Christian, look..." 

When the other man stopped his tirade, Jericho continued. 

"Just take it easy out there tonight, okay? Let's not lose our heads and forget that these are two *women* we're going to be facing tonight." 

"Oh, don't worry about *that*, Chris...I am totally aware that they're women. And I won't forget it, either," the other blond man said, a smirk coming to his face. 

Chris arched a brow at that, suspicion filling him. What exactly was the other man thinking? 

"Look...we'd better get out there," Christian said, swatting at his chest with the back of his hand. "Our match is next..." 

Y2J stood rooted to his spot for a beat as his friend headed for the door. Worry of an even deeper intensity coursed through him as he realized the inevitable had come. There would be no turning back - or *would* there? 

He decided then and there that if Bischoff and Christian wouldn't listen to reason, then maybe - just *maybe* - Trish *would*. 

Moments later, as he made his way to the ring, anxiety churned within him. Memories of events of the last month and a half played themselves through his mind... He and Trish... That first night, when he'd run out to the ring and rescued her from the clutches of Victoria and her boy toy Steven Richards... The three weeks after, when they'd met in the hallway while waiting for their respective matches - Chris had realized his feelings for Trish were genuine the night she'd teamed up with Jon Heidenreich. He recalled how very jealous he'd felt as he'd watched the petite blonde leave with the big man to go to the ring for their match against the psychos. And then, after their victory, Heidenreich had had the nerve to pick Trish up in his arms - as though she was *his*... 

A few minutes later, and after Christian and Lita had arrived to the ring, as Trish made her way down the ramp, Chris swallowed hard - and with painful acknowledgment, he reminded himself that the diva wasn't exactly *his*, either. It broke his heart... 

...Yet at the same time, he had no one to blame but himself. He had fucked up big time, and he hated himself for hurting Trish so badly. 

Chris blinked as he kept his gaze on the petite blonde. She looked so beautiful in her gold and black outfit, her long hair in a slight bodywave. 

Shit... He wanted to hold her, kiss her - not *fight* her! 

Then, as she entered the ring, as she'd evidently decided to start the match for her team, Chris took a step toward her. He doubted she would be in any mood to listen to him after what he'd done but maybe she'd listen to reason...   
  
  
  
  


Part 2 

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	2. Chapter 2

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The woman winced as she and her friend returned to the backstage area. The two leaned against one another for support, although the redhead had been battered more than the blonde. 

"Damn that Chris Jericho!" Trish Stratus exclaimed, her face a mask of fury. "I can't believe he actually had the _nerve_ to be so rough with you... I tell you, Lita - it's hard to believe you were ever friends with that guy!" 

"Well, that was a long time ago," the high-flying redhead muttered as she held one hand against her back. Damn, it was hurting like a bitch after Y2J had callously shoved her into the guardrail around the ringside area. 

"And who am _I_ to talk?" Trish berated herself. "You were only his friend... _I_ was the one who was contemplating sex with the loathsome creature!" 

Lita winced as they turned into a corridor and reached the locker room they were sharing. She knew she would have to put ice on her back later. 

"Yeah, well... I don't know, Trish - he was a complete asshole toward _me_, but he actually seems to still care about _you_ - in his own warped little way." 

"What are you, kidding?" The petite blonde Canadian stared incredulously at her best friend. "He's a loser, Lita... He proved that fact two weeks ago when I overheard him and Christian talking about that stupid bet!" 

The two divas looked up, startled by a sudden knocking on the door. Lita was about to rise from the couch into which she'd just sunk, but Trish gestured for her to stay put. The redhead was definitely a lot worse for wear than herself. 

"Are you girls all right?!" 

The concerned green eyes of Edge scanned Trish and then quickly traveled over to Lita. Before either woman could issue a response, the tall blond man was in the room and sitting beside the redhead. 

Trish watched the two of them together as she shut the locker room door. It was very obvious how much Edge liked Lita, and it sort of stung - not that the little blonde was jealous of that in itself... She just felt kind of lonely after everything that had gone down with Chris. 

Shit... She'd thought she'd actually found the real thing this time around... 

"The next time I see my little brother, I think..." The Canadian balled his hands into fists. "...Oh, I think I'll _kill_ him!" 

Lita met his emerald eyes, noting the fire within. While she definitely appreciated her friend's offer, she didn't want him to bother. 

"Edge, no..." she said, reaching out to grab hold of his arm. "He's not worth it... Besides, I can fight my _own_ battles." 

The blond man noted the determination in the diva's hazel eyes. Damn it... Why did the redhead have to be so... Well, for lack of a better word - _fiery_? It was in her true nature to want to fight her own battles, no matter who her adversaries were, and no matter what the consequences. Hell, Edge recalled having heard the woman say only days earlier, in anger, that she might just challenge her ex-boyfriend, Matt Hardy, to a one-on-one match. The son of a bitch had taken to regularly interfering in her matches. It seemed as though it were a religion with him. 

"Okay, okay..." The tall blond man put his hands up as though in surrender. "Fine, I'll keep my nose out of it - _this_ time. But believe me when I say that if Christian tries anything more with you, I'll be forced to kick his ass..." Edge turned toward Trish. "And if Jericho does something else to hurt _you_, I'll do the same to _him_..." 

The blonde diva nodded absent-mindedly. 

Edge and Lita exchanged glances, both realizing that Trish seemed a million miles away.   
  
  
  
  


Part 3 

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	3. Chapter 3

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As the two blond men made their way back to the locker room they were sharing, Christian was gleeful while Chris Jericho was glum. 

Jericho's face still wore a look of concern as he followed the other man into the room. He couldn't stop thinking of Trish and hoping she was all right. 

Christian didn't seem to notice that Y2J's mood didn't match his own. 

"That was _great_! We should wrestle against chicks more often..." He laughed and swatted Chris' chest with the back of his hand, then sat down to remove his boots. "I'm only sorry that _you_ were the one to shove that bitch Lita into the safety railing. That's what she deserves after what she did to me! She rejected me - _me_!" 

Jericho sat down to remove his own wrestling boots, his already frazzled nerves intensifying. And come to think of it, Christian was really starting to _get_ on his nerves. 

"Sorry I didn't let _you_ pin Trish, but damn if I didn't enjoy wrapping that little bitch up like a present... I-" 

"Would you just _stop_ it already?!" 

Christian looked up sharply at Jericho, finally noting the combined look of annoyance and worry on the older man's face. 

"What's eating _you_? Huh?" 

When Y2J didn't immediately respond, he laughed. 

"I _don't_ believe it! You're really in love with her, aren't you?" Christian gave a derisive little chuckle. "You _are_, I can see it in your eyes. Man, you are _so_ whipped!" 

Chris merely sat there and ran a hand over his blond hair. He had plenty in mind to say but held his tongue. At the same time, he didn't like hearing Christian belittle his feelings for Trish. 

"What happened to you, Chris?" 

Jericho removed his hand from his hair and raised his head to meet his friend's eyes. 

"You going _soft_ on me? When we made this bet, you were all for it! Now you turn around and act like some pussy-whipped wimp!" He shook his head, the disgust now clear in his face. He frowned and rose to approach the other man. "All we were supposed to do was fuck these chicks. I was supposed to fuck Lita, and you were supposed to fuck Trish - plain and simple. It wasn't about anything else..." He gestured wildly with both hands as he glared down at his friend. "Come to think of it," he continued, a cruel, crooked grin spreading across his face, "I'm pretty surprised you _didn't_ get to bang Trish - I mean, look at who she's done in the past - Test, Mr. McMahon, Jeff Hardy... Kurt Angle... Hell, she probably even did the Big Show! How come _you_ didn't get a piece of that slut-" 

Christian's taunting verbal insults were abruptly cut off as Jericho sprang up from his chair, pushed well past his limit. He shoved the younger man into the small row of lockers across the room, clear blue eyes widened with rage. 

"I'm going to tell you this once and once _only_..." he spat, his voice reduced to a dangerous whisper. "If you _ever_ talk about Trish like that again, I will make your life so miserable, you'll wish you were never born..." 

"Oh, please! You're not-" 

"I'm not fucking around, you asshole... I will make you regret crossing paths with me..." 

Christian swallowed hard, his mouth running dry at the sound of the other man's voice, the threatening gleam in his eye. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Chris was not lying. He was the type of guy to live up to his promises. Also, he did _not_ want Jericho as an enemy. 

"Okay, man... Jeez..." He put his hands up in surrender. 

"Good..." Y2J glared directly into Christian's eyes as he slowly released his hold on him. "Because I'm gonna make sure to _hold_ you to that..."   
  
  
  
  


Part 4 

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	4. Chapter 4

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He couldn't take it anymore... 

Back at the hotel after the pay-per-view, the man had tried to relax - as opposed to his usual clubbing with his friend. He was aggravated and upset and basically felt like an animal trapped in a cage. 

He had to get out for awhile... 

The company was currently in Florida, so it was warm for December. Growing up, he'd known this time of year as producing frigid temperatures and snow. Luckily, he didn't have to worry about that here... 

Donning only a lightweight sweatshirt jacket over his short-sleeved button-down shirt, he took to the street, opting to go for a walk. The night was surprisingly crisp, but nowhere near what he would call 'cold.' 

He walked a ways until he came to a small park. As he continued, he noted the benches, the people... 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he was near enough to see who they were. 

His colleagues - Edge... And the other two were his opponents that night - Lita and Trish... 

The man rushed several feet away in an attempt to stay hidden from their sights. He hid behind a rather large tree as he spied on them. If they were to spot him, they'd beat him senseless. The two divas despised him, and the tall blond man was their friend and would no doubt be protective and want to avenge the wrong he and his friend had perpetrated against them. 

Good... He soon realized they didn't sense his presence at all. He didn't want to deal with Edge right now, though he knew it was inevitable that he would _have_ to sooner or later. And the chances were pretty great that he would others to worry about as well. Rob Van Dam, for instance, was one of Lita's best friends and had been ever since their ECW days together. Both the redhead and Trish were tight with all three Dudley Boyz as well. He wouldnt be surprised if Bubba Ray and D'Von were to request a table match against him and his friend and occasional tag team partner one of these days. After what he and the other man had pulled, they would surely want to get their hands on them... 

As he contined to stand pressed against the large tree, he realized Trish was crying. The little blonde had been talking about how badly all of this had hurt her, how upset she was that Eric Bischoff had made the Battle of the Sexes match, when she'd suddenly burst into tears. Although Edge was seated between the two women, Lita had been the first to spring into action. She moved over to her good friend and embraced her. 

Now, he could hear her words clearly: 

"Shh... He's not worth your tears..." 

Edge hugged the blonde as well, and then he and Lita gazed into one another's eyes, the tall Canadian apparently having seen something there at least somewhat similar to Trish's current state. 

"Are you okay?" 

The redhead nodded but looked sad. 

"I... I really thought..." Her voice broke just slightly and she shifted her eyes down as though she were about to join Trish and start crying as well. 

He watched as Edge put an arm around Lita and pulled her against him. The diva seemed to sink into his touch, letting her head rest against his chest, her arms going around his waist. He noticed her eyes closing and wondered if she'd started crying. 

After a few minutes, Lita released her hold on the blond man with one hand to reach out to Trish. The two divas held hands tightly. They were obviously trying to draw strength from Edge, from one another... 

...And they were feeling so terrible because of _him_ - because of him and his friend. 

"You know what?" he suddenly heard Lita say, and the redhead straightened up and reluctantly pulled away from her two friends. "I want out of here... It's getting chilly." 

The man could understand why the diva might be feeling cold, as she was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and shorts not too unlike the ones she'd worn in the ring earlier. 

"I'm sick of feeling sorry for myself," she continued, her voice strong and unwavering. She glanced at Trish, the blonde woman still looking sadder than tragedy itself. 

"_Fuck_ Christian and Jericho! Come on, let's get out of here..." 

As the man watched, only half-shocked - but not _really_ - at the redhead's angry yet strong words - he noted how Trish and Edge exchanged glances. The little blonde diva stood up, wiping at her eyes. Then, as he contined to watch them from his hiding place, the three began walking back to the hotel.   
  
  
  
  


Part 5 

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	5. Chapter 5

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The man had just about raged back at his hotel room until he couldn't take it anymore. 

People had sometimes accused him of throwing childish temper tantrums, but this time, he had a _right_ to be so pissed... 

He'd decided to go out for a brisk walk, if for nothing else than to clear his head. And while he'd been out, he'd seen them... 

...Lita, Trish and Edge... 

The two divas had looked upset, but he knew that was the result of the Battle of the Sexes match. They'd both been upset _anyway_, after discovering about the bet between he and his friend. 

Shortly after spotting them in that small park across from the hotel, the trio had gotten up to leave. He'd been near enough, though hidden from his sight, to overhear the redhead declare that she was heading back to the hotel... Trish and Edge were joining her. 

And that was where _he_ was going, too... 

* 

Chris stood just in the doorway of the hotel bar, his nerves clenched as he spotted her inside. 

Damn it, she was sitting at the bar - alone. There was a shot glass in her hand, she he could only guess what she was drinking. 

Jericho frowned, worry coursing through him. He ran a hand through his long blond hair as he steeled himself, then made his decision. 

He entered the bar and made a beeline for the young woman. Amazingly, there weren't any sleazy guys trying to pick her up, as beautiful as she was. 

He sat down beside her and realized she hadn't even noticed him. How focused and concentrated she must be on her sorroes, and on drowning them in booze... 

"Trish..." 

She whirled around at the sound of his voice issuing her name, seemingly shocked, and definitely angry. 

"What the _hell_ do _you_ want, Jericho?" she demanded, her brown eyes flashing dangerously. 

Chris flinched. God, she was pissed... And to be perfectly honest, he couldn't blame her. 

"Take it easy," he said softly, his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm not here to cause any trouble..." 

"Right! You know what? _All_ you've done is cause me trouble - you've given me nothing but pain and heartache!" 

The blond man swallowed hard against the hurt he felt at her words but shook it off. 

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his crystal-blue gaze traveling to the shot glass as he pointed to it as well. 

"Yeah..." the blonde diva said bitterly. "So I'm drinking my problems away. Whoopee! Well, let me tell you something, Jericho - I'm a big girl and I can drink all I want - so fuck off!" Trish's lovely face was marred by anger. 

Chris glanced around, noting that the bartender was eyeing the two of them. Likewise, a guy who could pass for a bouncer was watching them as well. He supposed if they were to do anything, they'd probably throw _him_ out, claiming he was upsetting a patron. Well, screw that... 

"Trish, please listen to me," he said in a softer, gentle voice. "I am truly sorry - for _everything_." 

The little blonde turned her head slowly to stare at him, suspicion clearly written on her face. At least this time, she didn't try to talk over him. Maybe he _did_ still have a chance - if at nothing else, then to explain how he truly felt... 

"No, I take that back," the blond man said, noticing the way the woman's expression changed again to one of fury. "I _don't_ regret getting close to you, getting to know you. And damn it, I don't even regret that bet - because if Christian and I hadn't made it, I never would have _gotten_ to know you in the first place..." He swallowed back the lump in his throat, inwardly praying his words had made some sense to the diva. 

"Damn you, Chris..." Trish said, her chin quivering, eyes filling rapidly with unshed tears. 

Jericho's heart nearly broke at the extent of sadness on her face. At the same time, the fact that she'd actually called him by his first name was promising. 

"Come on, let's get you out of here..." he said, stepping off the barstool. "We can talk in your room or mine." 

The little blonde hopped off her own barstool and looked up at him, the tragedy in her eyes giving way for suspicion. 

"You are _not_ going to make good on that bet!" 

"It never even crossed my mind," he said, though that was _somewhat_ of a lie. While he wanted no part of any sickening bet, he would love to hold Trish and make passionate love to her. 

She continued to eye him warily, but, surprisingly, her guard dropped a notch. 

"Fine... Let's go and talk..."   
  
  
  
  


Part 6 

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	6. Chapter 6

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Lita broke the surface of the water and took a breath as she pushed back her long wet red hair. 

She was in the hotel's indoor pool - alone, despite the warnings that solo swimming, and without a lifeguard on duty, could be dangerous. But then, she was a daredevil, one to throw caution to the wind. It was the same way she'd always lived her life - much like one of her best friends, Jeff Hardy, whose motto had always been 'live for the moment.' 

Dripping wet, the redhead made her way out of the pool, relief running through her as she snatched up the large beach towel she'd left by the side of the pool. She thought she definitely felt a little better, as though the brisk swim session she'd just finished had washed it all away - all the frustration, anger and heartache she'd been feeling. She knew Trish had gone to the bar for the exact same reason, but she'd decided on doing this instead. Certainly, it was more constructive than drinking her sorrows away like the blonde diva wanted to do. Still, she respected her friend's right to deal with things as she chose. Hell, Trish _deserved_ a couple of good, stiff drinks after what she'd been through! 

Lita's thoughts suddenly shifted to Edge. The tall blond man had offered to go to the pool with her, insisting she shouldn't be alone, but she'd refused. She was too stubborn for her own good, and she _knew_ it. 

Lita wrapped the towel around herself and headed for the adjacent women's locker room, where she'd left her clothing. She was planning on a simple, quick shower in her black bikini and then changing and returning to her room. 

A few minutes later, the diva was in a shower stall, rinsing away all the chlorine, which she'd found cloying. She'd made extra certain to bring travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner with her so as to combat any damage the pool water could inflict on her hair. 

It was just as she'd finished rinsing out the conditioner when she heard a noise. 

Startled, Lita stopped her chore and tried her best to strain her ears over the sound of the running shower water. There had been a distinct sound, as though the locker room door had been slowly opened and then shut. 

Her heart pounding faster, the redhead quickly shut off the faucet, then grabbed her towel, swiftly drying herself. She could hear no more strange, telltale sounds. 

Shrugging, she made her way out of the stall and to her clothing. She must have imagined the sound. 

Her guard now completely gone, Lita stripped out of her bikini and placed it in the middle of her damp towel. She would hang both up on the rack in the bathroom of her room later. 

She'd gotten her thong and bra on and was just pulling up her shorts when she heard another sound - and this time, it wasn't quite as faint or far away. 

She whirled around, prepared to scream but instead grew furious as she took in the person who'd come in here - who had no business coming near her or in a women's locker room to begin with. 

"What the hell are _you_ doing in here? Get _out_!" she yelled, so very angry that she'd forgotten she was standing there in only her bra and shorts that were still unzippered and unbuttoned. He was certainly getting more of an eyeful than he'd ever gotten the chance to see. 

"Why did you do it, Lita? Why did you do it?" he asked, his voice taking on a strangely pleading quality. Only then did the diva remember that she was standing half-naked in the man's presence. Covering her breasts with one arm, she reached out and shoved at him. 

"Get the fuck _out_ - _now_!" She wasn't bargaining on him to react in any way that could be threatening to her. 

He started backing away, as though obeying her - but suddenly, he lunged at her, and Lita's eyes widened at the crazed look in his own orbs. 

"You God damned _bitch_!" 

He grabbed hold of her, and, before she could react other than crying out, he shoved her forcefully into the row of lockers at his left. She crumpled to a heap on the floor but started to get up. 

He wouldn't let her... She would not be getting away - not _this_ time. 

The man brought his foot back, a growl of rage escaping him as he kicked Lita in the ribs. She began to scream, but a second kick cut her short. 

He knelt down by where she lay on the floor, clutching her injured midsection. Pleasure coursed through him at the sight of the tears that were now on her cheeks. Her nose had begun to bleed as well. He grabbed a handful of her long red hair and glared down into her tearful hazel eyes. 

"You wanna fuck with me, huh?" 

All she managed was a soft whimper. 

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this..." he said, his free hand reaching down to undo the button and zipper of his jeans. 

The redhead's eyes went wide again, the terror clear on her face as she realized what he was planning to do to her next...   
  
  
  
  


Part 7 

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	7. Chapter 7

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Trish eyed Chris with contempt, at the moment, no traces of the sorrow she'd been feeling all week present. Her arms were crossed under her breasts in a defensive and protective manner as she glared at the blond man. 

"Why should I believe you're really sorry? Oh, that's right," she continued, her brown eyes gazing at a spot somewhere above his head and beyond, "you're _not_ sorry about that fucking bet!" 

"Trish, please..." Jericho begged, his blue eyes filled with all the sadness and weariness he felt over the entire sordid mess. "...Let me explain again - the only reason I don't regret the bet is bec-" 

"Is because you got to know me, blah, blah, blah..." the diva interrupted him. "Yeah, right. Don't bother trying to sell that bull because no one's gonna buy it!" 

"Damn it!" the blond man cried, his heart pounding in triple time at the fear and anxiety that was rapidly filling him. She wasn't even willing to listen to him, even though she'd agreed to go talk privately here. She was finally at the angry stage, and most likely hating his guts now. It tore him up inside - he didn't want to lose her! 

"Trish, listen to me... I haven't been able to stop thinking of you all week - and not just all week, but this entire two months! I-" 

"Yeah, right!" the petite blonde said, annoyance in her beautiful facial features. "Heard that one already, too - and that was _before_ I found out about the bet!" 

"I'm telling the truth..." Chris gazed down into her brown eyes, his own clear blue unwavering and steady as they peered into her depths. 

She remained silent for a moment, as though considering his words. Then, "Why should I believe _anything_ you say, Jericho? I trusted you once but got burned for it! I'm _not_ going to make that mistake again! She restrained herself from striking out at him with her small, manicured hands. It wasn't easy. 

Trish suddenly stepped past him to leave, as she felt she could take no more. Despite her anger and the booze-induced cloud inside her head, she was feeling very fragile - as though she might break down at any second. And she would be _damned_ if she allowed him to bear witness to her tears... 

"What... Where are you going?" Chris asked, his voice sounding uncertain. 

"Out - away from _you_," the blonde woman replied, her chin quivering just slightly. She didn't know how much more of this she could withstand. Damn it... The last relationship she'd had ended four years ago, and she'd been horribly wronged and wounded. Chris Jericho had been the first man she'd trusted with her heart since then, and look at how _that_ had turned out... 

"Please don't go... Trish..." 

The Canadian diva bit her lip, stopping just as her hand made contact with the door handle. Damn it, what was _wrong_ with her? He didn't give a crap about her, never had - so why couldn't she just keep on walking? Why hesitate at all? 

Jericho was nearly on the verge of tears himself, but the blonde couldn't see that because her back was still to him. He ran a hand over his face and then his long hair, his eyes gazing up for a beat at the ceiling before he took a long, hard swallow and spoke again. 

"Damn it, I _love_ you...!" 

Trish's breath caught in her throat, one of the tears that had been threatening to overwhelm her suddenly slipping down her left cheek. _What_ had he just said? She knew she'd heard it but couldn't quite believe her ears... 

Slowly, she turned around to face him, astonished to see that he had tears in his eyes - just like _she_ did... 

"Chris... What did you just say?" 

The blond man came forward, closing the distance she'd created between them, and gazed down into her eyes, his expression still sad. 

"I... In the middle of all the bet business, I realized I'd fallen in love with you..." 

A second tear trickled its way down Trish's cheek as she blinked and kept her gaze fastened on him. 

"You... you actually sound _sincere_..." 

Chris raised a hand, placing his palm gently against her cheek. 

"Beautiful Trish... That's because I _am_ sincere..." 

The blonde diva continued to gaze at him with wonder. Something was happening inside of her, in her heart... 

And then, she could stand it no longer. She reached up, pulling his head down to hers for a passionate kiss...   
  
  
  
  


Part 8 

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	8. Chapter 8

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Lita raised her head weakly, uncertain as to her whereabouts but totally aware of the pain... 

Her entire body ached - just about every inch. Her head felt heavy, leaden, as though she'd been drugged or clubbed with a blunt object. 

Where the hell _was_ she? 

She glanced around, her vision swimming as a wave of dizziness came over her. She was in some locker room, on the cool floor... And then... Oh, God... 

Her mind screamed while her mouth could not. She remembered what he'd done to her - how long ago had it been? She'd been in here, changing after a shower following her swim in the hotel pool, and... and... 

Slowly, she rose to her feet, her hand grabbing out toward the row of lockers on her right side. She hurt... She just plain _hurt_. 

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut at the heaviness of her head, and it was only when she brought her hand to it that she realized she had a rather large goose egg... He'd smashed her head-first into the lockers... 

And that wasn't the worst of it - she felt pain between her legs... She also felt wet down there, but not from the normal function of her body, nor from her swim or shower - she'd made certain to dry herself off thoroughly... 

Oh, my God... It had to be his _semen_... 

Stifling a scream, Lita began to walk down the short aisle, her belongings all but forgotten. She was not at all mindful of the fact that she was only wearing a bra up top and that her shorts were still open. He hadn't bothered to completely remove them when he'd... She couldn't even bring herself to _think_ the word. 

She reached down to zipper her shorts, a feeling of shame almost unbearable running through her. She had to get out of here... Her first instinct told her to go to Edge... But he was a man, and she really needed a _woman_ right now, after... _Trish_... The blonde diva was her best friend, and, at the moment, she could think of no one else to go to. 

In a daze, Lita made her weak way out of the area and up the stairs to the room she knew Trish was staying in. It wasn't easy and took all the strength she had left in her body to get there. 

Surprisingly, the hallway was deserted. The redhead had no idea of what the time could possibly be. 

Somehow, she reached the Canadian diva's hotel room, and she was so relieved to have arrived that she could have burst into tears. 

"Trish... help me..." The words came out of her in a feeble whisper, her voice so soft even _she_ couldn't hear herself. 

It took all of Lita's strength to muster the energy to rap on the door. 

"Help me..." 

Exhausted and wracked by the pain, the redheaded diva collapsed in front of the door. It was taking too much effort for her to keep her eyes open as well. Her lids felt extremely heavy - _too_ heavy, and despite her attempts to keep them open, they closed. 

Again, the world faded to black for her. 

* 

Chris and Trish looked up simultaneously as they heard the knock on the door. 

"Don't open it," Jericho said plaintively. They'd been sitting on the bed, talking, holding hands after their kiss. To him, it had been breathtaking - not only the kiss itself, but the talk they'd been having. They were patching up their relationship - if what they'd had over the past two months could be _called_ a 'relationship.' 

"It could be an emergency," Trish pointed out. She released Chris' hand despite the crestfallen expression on his face. She bit her lip in mock pity as she gazed back at him from over her shoulder, then turned back to let the visitor in. 

There was nobody there... 

...Until she noticed the woman lying on the floor just beyond the door. 

"Lita? Oh, my God!" The blonde knelt down to check on her fallen friend. 

Chris' eyes fixed on the spectacle, then he sprang up and rushed over to the doorway. His heart nearly stopped at the sight. 

"Chris, help me!" Trish cried, frantic and distraught. "She's been attacked! Oh, my God..." 

The blond man knelt by the unconscious diva's side to check for a pulse and to see if she was breathing. 

"Holy shit... Trish, call 911 for an ambulance." Jericho's voice was surprisingly calm, even to him. 

The little blonde stood up, her hands tearing at her long hair as she stared down at her friend with horror. 

"Oh, God... What-" She stopped speaking as tears threatened her. "Edge... I have to call Edge!" 

Chris turned to look at her from over his shoulder. 

"Call him _after_ you call for an ambulance - now _move_, Trish! I..." His voice became choked as he continued. "I can't tell if she's going to make it or not..."   
  
  


Part 9 

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	9. Chapter 9

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Edge took a sip of his lime green tea Snapple, then placed the bottle on the nightstand beside his hotel bed as he watched a movie on cable. 

He stretched out his long legs, his arms folding up behind his head as he repositioned himself to get comfortable. 

After several minutes, he realized he really wasn't paying attention to the movie he had on. His mind was too focused on Lita and Trish, and on how terribly upset the two divas had been - and still were. 

Mostly, he had to admit, he was thinking of Lita... 

The truth was, the tall blond man had developed a crush on her practically from the time she'd first joined the WWE. And then, after that bastard Essa Rios had turned on her and beaten her up in the ring, Edge had wanted more than anything for himself and Christian to run out there and rescue her - but Matt and Jeff Hardy had beaten them to the punch. Of course, the Hardyz had been their biggest enemies at the time, so he'd had to pretty much act like he'd hated Lita as much as he'd hated _them_ - but in reality, he'd found himself falling head over heels in love with the redheaded diva. 

He was so angry with his brother for how he'd treated her, for what he'd done. Christian hadn't realized what a treasure Lita was - though he _did_ know of the feelings Edge harbored for her... The tall blond man knew that what it all boiled down to was a silly, stupid brotherly contest - it pleased Christian to no end to try to get something - or someone - _he_ wanted... 

The Canadian's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He reached over to snatch it up from the nightstand and answered. 

"Hello?" 

"Edge? It's Trish..." The petite blonde spoke in a very odd voice, and Edge frowned. She hadn't even said hello, and that was damn rare. He wondered what was up. 

"Hey, Trish - what's going on?" he asked. He was suddenly taken aback as the young woman began to cry - but he figured it was all the stuff from earlier that night, and the previous week, that was still getting to her. 

"Chris and I... W-we..." Her voice broke, as she was choked with sobs. 

Edge sat up at hearing Jericho's name. So, that was it? The asshole had tried hassling her some more? 

"What? What did Jericho do to you _now_? I'll find him and take him a-" 

"No, Edge, no..." Trish said sadly, and he could hear her sniffling. "Chris is here with me, and - Edge, it's Lita... She's been... attacked - I... I think she's been... _raped_..." 

The tall blond man was out the door in a flash. He didn't even hear everything his friend had said - after hearing her speak the redhead's name, he'd removed the phone from his ear and taken off. 

* 

"Oh, my God... Oh, God..." Trish cried, her brown eyes filled with tears as she stared down at her best friend with horror. The redhead had a very visible contusion on her head, and, to her utmost horror, she'd noticed blood beginning to trickle down her inner thighs. Somehow, Trish knew it wasn't simply that Lita had just gotten her monthly visitor... 

Chris turned to meet the blonde's eyes, horror consuming him as well. He was partly in shock of what had happened to the redhead. 

"The paramedics should be here in no time..." he said softly. He'd made certain to lay Lita on the bed, to cover her up as best he could. If she'd gone into shock, that would be the thing to do. 

They both looked up as a loud and frantic knocking sounded at the door. A second later, a voice accompanied the knocks. 

"Trish, let me in!" 

The little blonde rushed to the door to let Edge in. The tall Canadian's green eyes went wide with horror as he took in the sight of Lita - but he quickly grew enraged as he ran into the room, attacking the other man, who was standing over the evidently unconscious diva. 

"You fucking bastard!" Edge yelled as he grabbed Jericho by his shirt. He shoved him hard against the wall, his eyes glaring with hatred at him, teeth actually bared in his fury. "What the _hell_ did you do to her?!" 

Trish was crying out to him to stop, let him go, but Edge could only see red - and he had no reason not to believe that Chris Jericho wasn't responsible for Lita being in her current state. 

"I didn't do anything!" Y2J shouted, a bit angry himself as he tried to shove the other man off of him. "Trish and I were talking, and then she came over here! She must have collapsed outside the door - or someone dumped her out there!" 

"By God, if you're lying-" 

"He's _not_, Edge - I swear it!" the blonde diva yelped. "Now, let him go! I heard a knock, and when I answered, Lita was laying unconscious on the floor!" 

The tall blond man loosened his grip on the other man as he absorbed Trish's words. He turned slowly and stood over the redhead on the bed, and the horrifying knowledge of what must have happened hit him like a ton of bricks. 

Edge actually began to cry as he stared down at Lita... He raised a hand up to his mouth as he felt a scream of rage and horror building up inside of him. 

He felt literally sick as he realized - as unfathomable as it was - that _Christian_ must have attacked Lita... His own _brother_ must have done this...   
  
  


Part 10 

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	10. Chapter 10

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Chris Jericho's eyes were sad as he stared down at the floor of the hospital waiting room, his mind lost in what had happened to Lita. Granted, he and the redheaded diva hadn't been close in so long, but they'd been really good friends at one point. His mind went numb when he thought of how someone could so carelessly and callously brutalize her like that... 

Trish was at his right side, the petite blonde's small hand in his, her head resting against his shoulder as she tried desperately to fight the tears that still threatned her. She was obviously trying so very hard to remain strong for the woman who was her best friend. 

Chris was glad he could be her support, her rock. He just cursed whatever forces - rather whatever _monster_ - had attacked Lita. 

Edge had been sitting at Trish's right side, his blond head bowed, face in his hands for the longest time, but he'd since stood up. Now, the tall Canadian began to pace the length of the waiting room. Chris noticed how he checked his watch every couple of minutes as well. 

Edge ran a hand through his hair. 

"What is taking them so long?" he wondered aloud. Damn it, she'd been in there for over an hour already, and there'd been no word at all. 

Jericho eyed the other man but didn't know what to say. That was simply because he didn't have an answer... 

Then, as though responding to the tall blond's question, a doctor in a long white coat approached them. 

"Are you here for the young woman with the red hair? Lita, I believe her name is?" 

"Yes - how is she?" 

The physician wore a grim expression on his face. 

"It's difficult to tell at the moment... She has a contusion to the head, and possibly a concussion, but because she is still unconscious, we aren't sure." 

Edge eyed the man impatiently, as though imploring him to continue. 

"Also, she's been raped. There are some vaginal tears and a bit of bleeding," he said. 

"Oh, God!" Trish cried, her brown eyes filling up with tears again. Chris grabbed hold of her hand again, as though in an attempt to soothe her. Somehow, the blonde had hoped beyond hope that her friend hadn't endured that most horrible violation. 

Edge's face wore a look of shocked horror, the blond man's green eyes appearing haunted. 

"She's also been beaten pretty severely," the doctor continued. "She has two broken ribs on her left side." He shook his head. "Probably, her attacker kicked her." 

The tall Canadian's hands clenched into fists, his eyes starting to well up like Trish's. 

"Will you..." Edge swallowed hard. "...let me know when she wakens?" 

"Of course, sir..." 

The tall blond turned around slowly to face the others. Trish's chin quivered slightly, and Edge knew she was seconds away from losing it again. Jericho, although his face looked stony, appeared pretty upset himself. Maybe the man _had_ actually changed since getting close to Trish in the last couple of months... 

Resignedly, Edge let out a sigh, though not of relief. He came to sit beside the blonde diva, then ran a hand through his long hair. 

Y2J sat thoughtfully quiet for the longest time - until he felt he could go mad and scream. Then, abruptly, he released Trish's hand and stood. 

The two Toronto natives stared up at him questioningly. 

"Ive got to go take a walk for awhile," Chris announced. 

"_Now_?" the diva asked. "Do you _have_ to?" 

"You just stay here with Edge," Jericho said, kneeling in front of the little blonde for a moment. "I'll be back soon, I promise." He gently caressed her cheek, then rose and started walking out of the waiting room and toward the elevators. 

Edge glanced at Trish, whose face now wore a look of confusion to add to the pain over what had befallen Lita. The tall Canadian put an arm around her shoulders as though to enable them to draw strength from each other. 

He couldn't help but wonder what Jericho was up to...   
  
  


Part 11 

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	11. Chapter 11

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Chris Jericho's face was stony as he walked the short distance back to the hotel. Luckily, the hospital to which Lita had been brought was right in the vicinity, or else he might have gotten lost on the way back. As a typical guy, he'd never admit it, but he could be really lousy with directions more often than not. 

His head was spinning as he reached the hotel, one destination and one only in mind for him. 

As he'd been sitting there in that dank hospital waiting room beside Trish, listening to that doctor's words about Lita and what had happened to her - what had been _done_ to her - he'd known... He knew _exactly_ what had happened, and who was behind it... 

The blond man finally reached the room for which he'd been searching, his blood burning as fury intensified in him. He raised a fist and smashed it against the door five times. 

"Christian, open this door!" 

Jericho heard a noise come from within the room, then after a few seconds, the door was opened. 

"Oh, hey..." a freshly-showered Christian said with a small, sly smile. "What's up, Chris?" 

Y2J blinked as he noted the sheer obliviousness on his now-former friend's face. Did the other man _really_ think he was _that_ stupid? 

Quietly, he closed the hotel room door and stepped further into the room, following Christian as he moved toward the desk. 

"Cut the _crap_!" he bellowed, the tiny bit of patience he'd had trickling away like water droplets melting off an ice cube. "It was _you_, wasn't it?" he asked in a surprisingly soft voice when the younger man whirled around to face him. "You attacked Lita... you beat her and-" Jericho's voice reduced to a whisper as he concluded his thoughts. "-you _raped_ her..." 

A look of shocked horror entered Christian's eyes, but Jericho wasn't buying it - not even for a second... 

"What...?! Chris, did you just say... Lita - _raped_?" 

"You _heard_ me, and you _know_ you did it, you slimy little shithead!" The older blond man made a grab for his friend, who didn't even try to avoid him. 

"My God... Chris, I... you think _I_...?" Christian looked at him almost with pain in his blue eyes. "_I_ didn't do it!" He held up his hands in a helpless gesture. 

"Fuck you, asshole!" Chris yelled, a handful of the other man's robe clutched in his hands. He glared directly into the Canadian's eyes as he went on. "You raped Lita and left her for dead, but you didn't have the balls to admit it! But you won't get away with it, you hear me? If it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure she presses charges and you spend the rest of your miserable life rotting away in jail..." 

Now, a veil seemed to cross the other man's blue eyes, and Christian's emotions did battle inside of him. Then, "Look, Chris... I didn't _touch_ her - I mean it!" 

"Save your breath for someone who'd _buy_ your bullshit!" Y2J released his former friend's robe, shoving the other man for good measure. "You're one sorry piece of shit..." 

Christian shook his head. 

"I didn't _do_ it... Why won't you believe me?" 

"Because I wasn't born _yesterday_," Jericho retorted, fury still glittering in his crystalline blue eyes. "Look, Christian... Everyone _knows_ how bitter and pissed you are after Lita pummeled you with a bouquet of roses and her fists last night..." The blond man left out the part about Trish doing the exact same thing to _him_ - but damn it, _he_ hadn't resorted to violence against the blonde diva. "...And you made no secret about how much you enjoyed beating her up in the Battle of the Sexes match... Oh, you're guilty - you _did_ it, all right..." 

Christian was silent for a moment, the expression on his face tranforming to the point where Chris wanted to punch it off. A slow, evil grin suddenly spread across the young man's face as he thought about what he'd done to the redheaded diva... He'd enjoyed it, all right. And if the opportunity arose where he could do it _again_, he might just grab it. 

"You sick son of a-" 

"Chris, Chris..." the other blond chuckled. "Is this _really_ because _I_ won the bet and you _didn't_?" 

Jericho rushed at Christian, lunging for him at the rage he felt. The asshole had raped Lita... He'd beaten her so severely she was unconscious, and he'd _raped_ her so badly she'd torn and bled - and he was _bragging_ about it, claiming it as the reason for him winning that ridiculous bet. He wanted to _kill_ the bastard. 

"Now, now, Chris... You don't really want to do _that_, do you ? You wouldn't want me to tell precious little Trish that you were in one Lita's rape, would you?" 

Jericho made a face that depicted his confusion. 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" 

Christian grinned maliciously, his blue eyes sparkling evilly. 

"You knew about this... We were in on it _together_..." 

"No we _weren't_!" 

"_Trish_ doesn't know that, _does_ she? I'll even tell her that you planned on doing the same to _her_ that I did to Lita if she didn't warm up to you again..." 

Chris stared into the younger man's eyes with hatred. Christian looked and sounded insane... And _he_ was so screwed...   
  
  


Part 12 

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	12. Chapter 12

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{Hold on to me love   
You know I can't stay long   
All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid 

Can you hear me?   
Can you feel me in your arms 

Holding my last breath   
Safe inside myself   
Are all my thoughts of you   
Sweet raptured light   
It ends here tonight...} 

Edge tried his best to gather himself as he and Trish tentatively entered Lita's hospital room. 

The diva looked in even worse shape than the doctor had described - and it tore him apart. There was a bandage on her forehead, and he knew her ribs were taped up underneath the hospital-issue gown the redhead wore, as the doctor had said she had some broken ribs. 

The tall blond man held tightly to Trish's hand as they edged closer to the diva's bed. The little blonde began to cry again, this time more softly than before. 

Edge noticed a darkening bruise on Lita's left cheek, as well as the fact that her lips appeared to be swollen - probably from the brutal kisses that had been forced there... Or... No, he couldn't - he couldn't bring himself to think anything else could have caused that... 

Reluctantly letting go of Trish's hand, the little blonde sounding sadder than tragedy itself, the tall man moved even closer to the fallen diva's bedside. A lump formed in his throat, and he prayed he would not throw up as he thought about everything that had been done to her. He needed to be strong right now - strong for Trish, and strong for Lita... 

Edge reached down and took hold of one of the redhead's hands, noting how very tiny it was compared with his own... She looked so fragile, so delicate at this very moment. 

"Lita..." He spoke her name softly, and tentatively, as though hoping she would awaken at any moment and look up into his eyes. It didn't happen, however - with the head trauma she'd endured, the redheaded diva was still unconscious. Edge had the sickening notion that she was in a coma... 

Trish, who was now seated in a chair beside the bed, was still crying. Her sobs, though now softer than ever, filled the room. 

"Lita... We're here with you - _for_ you," he continued. "Edge and Trish... We're pulling for you, Li..." He paused as he became choked with emotion. He felt tears welling in his green eyes not only from looking down upon the women with whom he'd been in love for the past several years, but at thoughts that had plagued him earlier - Christian... Was it really possible that his own brother was responsible for all of this? As much as Edge didn't want to believe so, deep down, in the darkest recesses of his heart, he knew it was true. And, as stupid as it seemed, he couldn't help but feel... responsible. As irrational and stupid as that was, he felt that way for the simple fact that Christian was his brother - his own _brother_. And certainly, the actions of his sibling would be a reflection on _him_. It tore him up badly enough to almost wish himself dead... 

Trish gazed dejectedly at Lita's still, silent form, the redhead looking tiny as the size of the bed nearly engulfed her. The blonde diva's chocolate-brown eyes were still filled with tears - tears that were constantly spilling forth onto and down her cheeks. 

Edge suddenly found himself wondering where Chris had gone. The other man had excused himself after the doctor had told them of Lita's condition - but he _hadn't_ said where he was going or what he was doing. 

The tall Canadian decided that, sometime later, he would have to have a talk with Jericho to find out...   
  
  


Part 13 

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	13. Chapter 13

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{I'll miss the winter   
A world of fragile things   
Look for me in the white forest 

Hiding in a hollow tree   
(That's where you'll find me) 

I know you hear me   
I can taste it in your tears...} 

Her eyes fluttered open as she slowly roused back to consciousness. She was in a darkened room, and she was in pain... Her body was wracked by it. 

Disoriented and terrified, Lita bolted up into a sitting position, suddenly realizing she was in a bed. But _where_ was she? What were the strange sounds she heard all around her? 

She had no answers to the questions swirling through her head - and she began to scream and thrash around in her fright... 

* 

"Oh, God..." Trish breathed, her brown eyes wide as several nurses and orderlies zoomed past her in the waiting room. 

Edge raised his head from its previously down position, eyeing the group cautiously. 

"What's going on?" He glanced at his watch, noting that it was nearly four-thirty in the morning. He and Trish had fallen asleep out here once visiting hours had ended. And where was Jericho? He'd never returned to the hospital as he'd promised. 

"I-I don't know," the little blonde answered fearfully. "But they're heading in the direction of Lita's room..." 

"They are?" Now, Edge was fully awake, and he bolted to his feet in an instant. Alarm filled him at the thought that something more had happened to the redhead, but at the same time, he realized that she must have finally awakened - or, rather, regained consciousness. 

Trish, although groggy, stood up as well. Without a word to her friend, she wended her way to the nurse's station. 

"Excuse me - can you tell me what's going on?" 

"A patient is having a rough time, from what we understand," the woman replied. "She also ripped the IV out of her arm in her hysteria." 

The Canadian diva turned to meet Edge's fearful green eyes. 

"That _definitely_ sounds like it could be Lita," he spoke. He guessed she most likely regained consciousness and went ballistic upon recalling what had been done to her the previous night. Hell, _he_ would probably go crazy if he were in her shoes! 

"Oh, God..." 

Without any regard to what the doctors and other medical personnel would require of him, Edge fled down the hall and after them to Lita's room. Trish, who didn't want to be left alone, rushed after him. 

The scene nearly broke the tall blond man's heart... 

The distraught redhead had indeed yanked the IV out of her arm in her evident fright. Now, her hair and eyes wild, sobs shaking her body, she huddled in one corner of the room. Edge noted the blood on her right arm, where the IV had been connected. He winced, hoping the needle hadn't been broken off, half of it still in her arm. 

The cries that emitted from Lita were almost animal-like mewls and wails alternately, and they were too much for Trish to bear. The little blonde added her own sobs to those of her best friend. 

Two orderlies moved furtively to the battered diva, one of them holding a syringe in his right hand. Edge noticed, and something about the impending situation struck him as being very wrong. 

While one of the men in white hoisted Lita up to her feet - not in the most gentle fashion, either - the blond man stepped closer. 

"What are you doing?!" he demanded. 

"We have orders to get her back into bed and give her a sedative." 

"Well, _don't_... You're being too rough. And I may not be a doctor, but I _know_ she doesn't need a sedative - she just came out of unconsciousness," Edge said firmly, his green eyes hard as he stared angrily at the man who'd spoken to him. 

"We have our orders, sir..." 

"Well, now _I'm_ giving you orders... That woman is a dear friend of mine, and you're only going to _hurt_ her, not _help_ her. I suggest you back off - unless you want me to kick both your asses." Edge clenched his hands into fists as he glared menacingly fromone orderly to the other. He suddenly felt Trish's small hand grab one of his arms as she stood, nearly hidden, behind him. 

"Make that the _two_ of us - because if you touch her, _I'll_ help him kick your asses," a new voice spoke, and they all turned to see Chris Jericho standing in the doorway of the room.   
  
  


Part 14 

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	14. Chapter 14

Although Lita had only just regained consciousness a short time earlier, Edge had insisted on taking her out of the hospital. The doctor had stressed that removing the redhead from the premises was a mistake, but the blond man hadn't cared. As far as he was concerned, Lita was far better off nowhere near the place. Besides, if need be, he could always bring her to another hospital. 

At the moment, the small group was back at the hotel... The scene of the crime. 

Lita, although weak, was alert and awake. Every so often, she would let out a soft whimper. The blond man wasn't sure if it was from physical or emotional pain. Either way, it wrenched at his heart. 

Chris and Trish, huddled together on an armchair across the room, spoke to one another in hushed tones. The blonde diva had since stopped crying, but she was obviously still terrified - and horribly worried about her redheaded friend. 

Edge felt sick as thoughts of what had been done to Lita plagued him. His stomach clenched uncomfortably, and his heart pounded like mad in his chest. He couldn't shake the overwhelming urge to storm out and search for Christian. He wanted nothing more than to beat his little brother senseless. 

Somehow, the blond man was managing also to refrain from giving in to the awful urge to run to the bathroom and vomit. He'd felt as though he were going to lose his lunch ever since finding out what had happened to Lita. 

Speaking of the redhead, she was curled up in his arms on the hotel bed, positively clinging to him. It was almost as though she were a drowning swimmer and he her only buoy. Her face was pressed against Edge's chest, one of her hands tightened around the cloth of his shirt. She seemed terrified to let go or of _him_ letting _her_ go, but the Canadian had no intention of doing so. 

On the other hand, Edge wanted to get up, march right out of this room and find his brother - and _kill_ him. A part of him still held onto the idea that he really didn't know that Christian was responsible for beating and raping Lita - but he knew better. Instinctively, he knew, no matter how hard he wished it were not true. Not his brother, his own flesh and blood! 

Suddenly, his tormentuous thoughts were interrupted as Jericho approached the bed, standing over it. 

"Edge... Can I have a word with you?" 

The taller blond man looked up, eyeing the other man curiously. He really didn't want to leave Lita alone - not even for a minute, but there was an urgency in Chris' eyes. Besides, now that they were back here, he suddenly recalled that Jericho had disappeared for awhile when they'd been at the hospital. He'd wanted to question the man as to where he'd gone and what he'd done. 

Edge nodded and began to gently untangle the redhead from him. 

"No..." Lita murmured. "P-please... don't leave me, Edge!" There was naked fear in her hazel eyes as she gazed up at him beseechingly. The tall Canadian's heart nearly broke at that look in her eyes, on her face. If he could do anything at all to ease her pain and anguish, by God, he would do it in a second. Hell, he wished he could magically go back in time and prevent what had happened to her. 

But there was no way he could do that... And he knew he had to listen to whatever Jericho had to say to him. 

"Sweetheart, don't worry..." he reassured her. He reached out and smoothed some strands of her long red hair from her haunted face. "I'll be right back. Chris and I will just go and talk, and I'll be back." 

Lita didn't reply, instead merely stared up at the blond man. She swallowed visibly, and that was when Trish, who'd been silent throughout the exchange, came over. As Edge rose, the little blonde took his place on the bed, gathering the battered redhead into her arms. Lita seemed to cling to her friend as the two men departed to the bathroom to speak in private. 

Y2J shut the door behind them, a grave expression on his face. He raked a hand through his hair, pacing himself for what he had to tell the other man. 

"Chris?" 

Jericho raised his gaze to meet Edge's green eyes. 

"When we were in the hospital," the older man began, deciding it best to just come out with it right away - no beating around the bush-, "I came back _here_... You see, I had a feeling..." 

The taller man didn't speak, but a feeling of extreme discomfort gripped him. Somehow, he knew what Jericho was about to say... 

"Edge, I confronted Christian... _He_ did it - _he_ attacked Lita." 

Part 15 

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	15. Chapter 15

"Edge!" Trish frowned as the tall blond man fled from the bathroom, where he and Chris had gone to talk - but he didn't stop there, as he rushed out of the hotel room all together. The little blonde diva looked up at Jericho, who lingered just beyond the bathroom door, his face somber. 

"Chris?" She kept her voice to a whisper, as somehow, Lita had fallen asleep, the redhead's head in her lap. Trish was fearful of moving, not wanting to disturb or frighten her friend in any way. "What happened? Where did Edge go?" 

The blond man read all the confusion, fear and concern on the diva's pretty face and raked a hand through his hair. He had to talk to Trish later about that, plus other pressing issues, but he didn't want to do that right now - not with Lita now blessedly asleep right here. 

"He, err... he had some important business to attend to. He'll be back soon." 

The blonde woman frowned. She wondered what this 'business' was all about as she glanced from Jericho down to the slumbering redhead. She had a sickening feeling that whatever Edge was doing, it had to do with what had happened to Lita. He'd stormed out of the hotel room with a very obvious purpose on his mind. She shuddered at the thought of what he might be up to. 

An inhuman snarl escaped Edge as he raced down the hallway in search of his brother's hotel room. 

It was true. It had happened, and no amount of wondering could change that. Christian had really beaten and raped Lita! 

He turned a corridor, making a beeline straight for the room Chris had told him was the one his brother was staying in. His steps quickened even more as he came to the door in questions, his eyes wide as he raised a fist to pound on it. 

At the same time, although he was beyond enraged and wanted to murder his brother, he didn't want to come off as a threat while he was out here in the hall. He wanted Christian to be completely guileless, to have not a clue as to who awaited him out here. Christian had to think someone was just randomly coming to visit him, no harmful intent or anything like that. Then he could pound him to a pulp... 

Just to be on the safe side, the blond man knocked again, this time making sure to temper himself. There would be plenty of time to beat the holy hell out of his brother once he opened the door. 

Edge was practically chomping at the bit as he waited, catching the distinct sound of footsteps as Christian crept across the hotel room floor. He could hear him moving steadily toward the door, closer and closer, and then... 

The door suddenly opened, and, seeing red as he laid eyes on Christian, Edge lunged at the other man. He shoved his brother down with a hard spear, and the two of them fell in a heap to the floor. 

"You sick little piece of shit!" the elder blond Canadian snarled, fists flying as he pummeled the other man. "I'll kill you!" 

Christian, so surprised by the attack, didn't even attempt to fight back at first. But now, his arms raised as though to protect his head and face. After a few minutes of Edge beating him up, the short-haired man felt a burst of adrenaline and fought back. 

Edge caught a forearm in the face, and, momentarily stunned, lost the upper hand. In a moment, Christian freed himself and was kicking him. 

"Who the hell do you think you are?! Oh, brother dear!" He gave him one more sharp kick to the ribs, leaving the taller man grumbling in pain. "I guess you found out about Lita, huh? About what I did to your precious little bitch?" Christian kicked Edge again as he continued. "Well, it was her own fault! You know what she talked about all that time we spent together? You! God damned you!" he shouted. "And that's why I did what I did! And you know who's to blame for what I did to her? You, dear brother..." He let out a derisive laugh before turning and leaving the room... 

... Leaving a pain-wracked Edge still laying on the floor, his head spinning. 

Part 16 

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	16. Chapter 16

Somehow, Edge managed to pick himself up off the floor and return to Trish's hotel room. 

The tall blond man was seething with rage as he recalled his confrontation with Christian moments ago. The fucking little bastard had raped Lita - he'd actually admitted it! And he had to reign in his temper as he reached Trish's room. He couldn't afford to have the redhead see him like this - not when she saw him as her pillar of support during her horrible ordeal. 

He knocked on the door, took a deep breath and exhaled sharply in an attempt to keep himself calm. 

"Edge..." Jericho spoke his name in a near whisper as he opened the door to see him. "What the-" The shorter blond man's voice trailed off as he caught sight of the strawberry bruise adorning the younger man's jaw. "What happened?" He stood back a ways to allow the other man entrance, and Edge shook his head. 

"My asshole brother decked me," he replied bitterly. 

"Shh..." Chris' blue eyes darted back and forth, coming to rest toward the hotel room bed, where Lita and Trish still rested. He gave the taller man a knowing look. 

Edge gazed over at the two divas, Trish sitting up and wide awake, her brown eyes directed toward them in concern. The redhead, on the other hand, was again asleep. The tall blond man noticed the red puffiness on her face and realized she must have cried herself back to sleep. And that only made him want to kill his brother even more. 

Jericho ran a hand over his blond head, realizing what had obviously happened. 

"I think you need some ice on that," he said softly, gesturing to the darkening bruise on Edge's jaw. "Go get some, and I'll wait." He glanced meaningfully at Trish. 

The tall Canadian man nodded, realizing that Chris wanted to talk with the blonde diva. He made a quick dash to the bathroom for a washcloth, then to the small fridge in the room and retrieved some ice cubes. 

It seemed as though Trish was watching him, her gaze very deliberate and intense. Edge didn't want the blonde to know what had really happened, yet at the same time, she deserved to know. Not to mention that she should be on guard in case Christian felt the need to brutalize and violate her as well. However, he sensed that was what Chris wanted to talk to her about. 

Edge held the makeshift icepack against his jaw, wincing as it brushed against the tender, bruised flesh. Damn his brother to hell! 

Jericho cleared his throat and gestured toward Trish. 

"Why don't we go to my room to talk in private?" he suggested in sotto voce. 

The little blonde seemed reluctant to move and leave her battered friend. She shifted her brown eyes down at Lita, then back to Chris. 

"It'll be all right... Edge is here for her." 

The little blonde nodded in resignation, then rose from the bed to join her beau. After one last gaze toward the sleeping redhead, as though making certain she would remain blessedly asleep, she turned and followed Jericho out. 

Edge winced as he pressed the washcloth full of ice more tightly against his face. He inched closer to Lita, concern flooding his eyes. As he continued to eye her, he realized the diva was stirring slightly. 

"No... No!" The redhead cried out in her sleep, her brow furrowing in evident fright. 

In a flash, Edge was at her side, the icepack forgotten as he tried to console her. She began to thrash around, one of her small hands catching him in his bruised jaw. 

"Ow!" Edge flinched and gently but firmly grabbed Lita's hands. "Lita! Wake up, honey, wake up!" 

The redhead's eyes suddenly snapped open, and she looked up to see Edge's handsome face. Collapsing against him in relief, she burst into tears. 

"It's okay now..." the blond man crooned as he held her against his chest, cradling her in his arms. "You're safe... you're with me. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you, Lita... I swear." 

The redhead clung tightly to him, sobbing desperately against him. 

He held her like that for a long time, rocking her back and forth in his arms. He meant what he'd said. In fact, he'd sooner die than let her be hurt again. 

Part 17 

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	17. Chapter 17

Chris restlessly paced the length of his hotel room, his mind running overtime as he contemplated a method of telling Trish the truth. And the truth was, he was terrified of letting her know. What if Christian was right? What if he opened his mouth and the blonde diva did think that he'd been in on everything with him? It tore him up inside just thinking about it. 

"Chris, stop it... come here," the petite woman said softly, her gaze gentle as she looked up at him. He was obviously seriously worried, and it touched her deeply. To think she'd been questioning his sincerity not long ago. 

Jericho stopped in his tracks to eye her wordlessly, and she patted the portion of the mattress directly beside her, gesturing for him to sit. He sighed uneasily and came over. 

The moment he was seated next to her, Trish sat up on her knees, and he let out a soft groan as he felt her small hands on his shoulders. She kneaded the muscles silently for a moment, thoughtful as she mulled on her own worries. 

"Oh, honey... You're so tense..." 

"Yeah..." Chris closed his eyes as he began to relax under her expert touch. All he wanted to do was just forget about everything - the fact that only earlier that night, Trish had seemingly hated him, the brutal attack on Lita, the hours in the hospital... Christian's vile confession to him, Edge confronting his brother and then getting the crap beaten out of him. All he wanted to focus on now was Trish's soft, smooth hands on his shoulders and neck and back and on being blessedly alone with her. 

But he couldn't do that... There was too much at stake. There would be no resting tonight, no solace. 

The little blonde frowned as she felt him suddenly stiffen under her hands, and she swallowed hard, wincing, though he missed it. She looked down for a beat, then they both started speaking simultaneously. 

"Go ahead, Trish..." 

"No, you. Something is bothering you, and it's more than everything that happened tonight," she protested. 

Jericho raked a hand through his long golden hair and blinked rapidly, fear coursing through him as he nodded in agreement. 

"You're right... you're right, and I..." He halted as he raised his head to meet her deep brown eyes. God, she was so sweet, and seemed so very innocent. How could he ever explain such evil to her? 

"It was Christian, wasn't it?" 

"What?" Chris nearly did a double-take, the extent of shock he felt at her question nearly knocking him back with its intensity. 

Trish looked down, her expression so sad she appeared on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time that evening. 

"Christian raped Lita, didn't he?" she elaborated. "And you and Edge knew it and Edge went to him tonight... But he hit him and got away." 

Chris shook his head, one of his hands snaking out to gently grasp her left arm. 

"How did you know that?" 

"Come on, Chris, give me some credit," she replied. "I wasn't pre-med because I was stupid, you know." 

He nodded rapidly, tenderness filling him at her facial expression and words alike. She was so full of spunk. And definitely too smart and clever for her own damn good. 

"I know that, Trish... I know. I just didn't want-" 

"What?" She placed one hand under his chin, tipping his head up so their eyes met. She could have broken down and bawled at the look in those beautiful crystal-blue eyes of his. He looked so... well, sad wasn't even quite the word for it. There seemed to be an awful hopelessness in those orbs, and she couldn't bear that emotion in him. She couldn't even bear the mere thought of such an emotion residing inside this man. 

Jericho dared to briefly shift his eyes away from hers, the emotion eating him up. And damn it, but he was actually beginning to feel tears forming. He was afraid - he was man enough to mentally admit it, perhaps even to verbally admit it to her - so desperately terrified of losing her. 

"Trish... I saw Christian tonight," he explained. "When I left you and Edge at the hospital earlier... I knew he had to be the one who attacked her. And I confronted him and the bastard denied it at first, but he finally admitted it and then he threatened me," he blurted. When the blonde woman frowned at that, he plundered on. "He threatened to go to you and tell you that we were in on it together. But that's a lie! I would never..." A single tear finally escaped his left eye and trickled slowly down his cheek. "Damn it, I would never hurt you or Lita!" 

The diva gazed deeply at him, her heart wrenching at his admission. Her heart wrenched at the look on his face, the fact that he was actually crying. In fact, he was suddenly softly sobbing. She couldn't take it anymore. 

"Oh, honey... Chris..." Tenderly, she pulled him to her, and he bowed his head, resting his brow against her chest. She could feel more of his tears as she gently stroked his long hair, rocking him back and forth slightly, not unlike she'd done Lita a little earlier. "I believe you." She pulled back and looked directly into his moist blue eyes. "Listen to me, Chris... I believe you. I know you would never hurt me or Lita. And you don't have to be afraid..." 

"So, you're not gonna leave me?" he asked, his voice slightly cracked. 

"No," she said, shaking her head vigorously. "Never..." 

"Oh, God..." He reached out and pulled her to him, clinging onto her as though she were an anchor and he a drowning swimmer. She tightened her arms around his neck, not wanting to let go, either. And then, after a few minutes, Chris pulled back enough to gaze into her beautiful brown orbs. He thought he could see his entire future in those eyes. And then he moved his face closer to hers, slowly, slowly, until their lips were suddenly touching. 

Despite all the horror they'd been through, Trish felt herself relaxing and melting under the force of the kiss, her right hand coming up to cup his cheek as she felt his soft, hot tongue exploring her mouth. The intensity of it had her nearly breathless. And damn it, she wanted him... She needed his closeness, his tenderness, his strength despite the fact that the roles had been oddly reversed and she had been the one comforting and reassuring him. 

Their clothing seemed to melt off, and she sighed as she lay back on the bed, her gaze locked with his, and tenderly, Jericho began to explore her body with his lips and tongue. He cupped one of her breasts in his hands, his thumb finding the nipple, which instantly hardened. 

The blonde let out a soft sigh of pleasure as she felt his hardness against her hip, and then his hand found her and began gently caressing. She was already very wet, and all she could think of at this point was having him inside of her. She nudged him almost shyly with her knee, and he looked up to meet her eyes again, and he got the message loud and clear. 

Trish cried out as she felt him slip into her, her gaze locked on his as it started. She reached up for his head, pulling him down to her and kissing him deeply, and Jericho returned the passion in kind, both wild and tender at the same time as his thrusts began to increase in speed and pressure. 

It went on and on, and in no time, the blonde woman felt that delicious peak hit her, and she let out a moan. She started to squeeze her eyes shut, but then she heard him speaking to her - telling her to keep her eyes open, as he wanted to see every raw emotion and sensation within them. 

That was enough for Chris, and he let out her name in a moan of his own, his body stiffening above her as he came. He kept his gaze locked on hers the entire time, and Trish climaxed a second time, her cries louder as her pleasure increased triply. 

"Oh, God... I love you," she said breathlessly when it was over. 

Chris turned over onto his side to face her, his hand coming up to caress her cheek. He kissed her softly, and she felt as though she were drowning, but in a deliciously good way. 

"I love you, too, sweet Trish..." 

Part 18 

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	18. Chapter 18

Edge found himself relieved when he looked down at the woman in his arms. For once, she was blessedly asleep - and from the looks of it, this time, soundly. 

His heart absolutely broke as his mind whirled with all of the unfathomable events that had occurred that night. The thought that his own brother had done anything to hurt Lita tore him up inside. And knowing that Christian had done the utmost unthinkable and raped her... Thinking about it all made his head spin and hurt, and it churned his guts. And damn it, he thought he was going to be sick. 

In a hurry, but in the gentlest manner he could manage, the tall blond man detangled the redheaded woman from his arms. As quickly and discreetly as he could manage, he placed Lita on the softness of the blanket and pillows, then raced to the bathroom. 

Everything was too much for him. He was a man who prided himself on being strong in a multitude of ways, but he'd met his match tonight... His brother had driven him to becoming physically ill - physically ill and to the point of weakness of his mind and body alike as he felt the nausea hit him hard. He hastily raised the toilet seat, leaned over and purged his stomach of all its contents. 

In moments, Edge found himself sunken down to his knees, his fingers desperately clutching at the porcelain bowl as he choked and hacked. It was sheer agony. All the images jumbled around his head, making him dizzy on top of the nausea and vomiting. 

He raised himself to his feet, his knees shaky as he reached over to flush the toilet. His eyes felt red and irritated as he inched over to the sink. He washed his hands and washed his mouth out - snatching the tiny complimentary bottle of mouthwash the hotel had left - and he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He looked haggard, his eyes slightly sunken in and haunted-looking. His brow was beaded with sweat, his long blond hair mussed. And of course there was the darkening bruise on his jaw where Christian had belted him. He was a fucking mess... He could care less about his physical appearance, however - it was his mental state he cared about. Damn it, he had to be strong for the sake of the beautiful but battered woman laying asleep in the bed just out in the main room. In spite of the fact that she had Trish and Jericho there for her as well, she seemed to be relying mostly on him. Edge would be damned if he wasn't the rock she so desperate sought to keep her safe in her time of need. 

Rinsing his hands one last time with cool water, the Canadian moistened his sweaty face. He wrung his hands out as he stepped out of the bathroom, sucking in a breath of anticipation as he returned to Lita... 

... The diva was still sound asleep in the center of the bed, her head turned slightly toward him in her slumber. One of her arms was curled up beside her head, her legs stretched out in front of her. 

Edge cocked his head as he watched her in silence for a moment, his heart catching. This seemed to be the first real bit of sleep the redhead had caught all night, ever since they'd taken her out of that damn hospital. And on that thought, he was grateful Chris had turned up when he had to assist him in getting her the hell out of there. That damn doctor had wanted to drug Lita... What he was now witnessing was enough evidence in his mind that the diva definitely hadn't needed to be medicated. 

The tall blond man was suddenly reminded of how very tired he was. He wasn't merely tired - he was downright exhausted, in both body and mind. He needed some rest before their little group faced tomorrow. 

Part 19 

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	19. Chapter 19

Trish's eyelids fluttered gently as she came awake, the distinctive sounds and sensations hitting her. And damn it, she was so tired... 

Turning onto her back, the little blonde was struck by the realization that, according to the small digital clock radio, it was only a quarter after five in the morning. No wonder she was still so sleepy. But that was of no importance to her at the very moment. She had more pressing issues at hand, as Chris was moaning and talking in his sleep, his voice taking on a very distressed tone. 

"Mmm... No," Jericho murmured, his hands gripping the blanket tightly, his head rolling from side to side. "No!" 

Trish gazed down at him in concern. She guessed he was in the clutches of some horrible dream. Biting her lip gently, tentatively, she reached a small hand down to him, pressing her tiny fingers into his shoulder. 

"Chris... Honey, wake up." 

"No! Oh, God... God, no!" the blond man cried in his sleep. 

The Canadian diva's heart beat in triple time, alarm coursing through her at the desperate yet hopeless tone of the man's voice. And why wasn't he awakening at her shakes? Shifting even more closely to him, Trish this time used both hands to shake him. She slid one hand up to his cheek, gently slapping it, not enough to hurt, but just enough to rouse him. 

"Chris... Chris! Wake up," she pleaded, her heart in her brown eyes as she gazed down at him worriedly. By God, there were tears on his cheeks. That knowledge absolutely knocked the breath out of her. 

"Wha...? What? Oh, God!" he cried as he suddenly came awake. In the very meager light and mostly darkness, he stared up into her face, his blue eyes wide as they searched her expression. 

"Baby, it's okay... You were only dreaming." The blonde's heart wrenched at the still confused look on his face. He looked so... lost. She reached down and gently stroked his cheek, moving her hand further so that her fingers were in his long blond hair, softly stroking. 

"T-Trish?" he whispered, his voice strangely hoarse. He continued to stare up at her, as though unsure that she was really there right beside him, in this very bed. 

"I'm right here, sweetie..." she crooned gently, lowering herself so that she was once again laying next to him. "... You had a nightmare. Sounded like a bad one." 

"Oh, God," he breathed. He was panting, his heart hammerimg so quickly in his chest that he was afraid it might actually explode. His entire body was tingling and afire, and not in a good way, either. He thought he was going to be sick or pass out. He felt hot, his entire body broken out in a cold sweat. "Sh-shit..." 

"Chris, calm down," Trish pleaded. She began to get scared at the way he was behaving. Under normal circumstances, a person would awaken from a nightmare and then visibly relax the moment they realized they'd merely been dreaming. 

"Trish... Are you really here?" he asked shakily. "I'm not dreaming anymore?" He reached a hand out toward her, and she gripped it tightly with her small one, offering him her warmth, her strength. 

"I'm right here, Chris... In the flesh," she assured him. She snuggled more closely against him, stretching her petite body beneath the blanket and pressed her still nude body against his. 

"Oh, God," he said again. "Thank God." He relaxed noticeably as she laid her head down on his chest, his breathing and heartbeat returning to normal. He reached his left hand up to his face, becoming instantly aware that there were tears on his cheeks. What the hell...? The dream... It had been absolutely awful. 

"Are you okay, sweetie?" the blonde woman asked, her voice level as she caressed and petted his hair with her free hand. "You... you scared me a little." 

Chris' heart sank at those words. The last thing he ever wanted to do to this woman was scare her. But the dream had been so horrible. Just thinking about it now, his mouth went dry and he thought he could get up, run to the bathroom and vomit. 

"I'm sorry, Trishy," he said, wincing at the thought that any moment now, she was going to question him as to what he'd seen in that nocturnal vision. He didn't want to share that with her. What would she think of him? 

"Honey," Trish said softly, raising her head just enough to gaze down into his face. "What did you dream?" 

There it was... He knew it was inevitable, but he'd hoped she wouldn't ask. It was too awful for him to tell her. Her virgin ears should never hear such filth. 

"Chris?" She petted his long hair again, her touch so soft and gentle. It was enough to bring him to tears again. What kind of a man was he, having such a despicable dream? "Talk to me, honey. Please?" 

"I... I can't," he said, shaking his head almost vehemently. He tightened his arm around her slender waist, drawing her even nearer to him, as though terrified she would get up and bolt from him. He couldn't handle that. "I can't tell you." 

"But Chris..." 

"It was the worst thing I have ever dreamt in my entire life," he told her, a chill going through him at the horrid recent memory. He realized she was still staring down into his face, a wince coming as she exhibited all the concern she felt. "You... oh, God, you really wanna know?" 

Trish shook her head. 

"Tell me." 

"It... it was Christian," Jericho blurted. "He... he cornered you in the women's locker room - and... you were the only diva there. The entire arena seemed to be deserted... And... and he-" 

"Oh, Chris," the blonde breathed, her head shaking in horror. No wonder he was so shaken. 

"But that wasn't it," Chris continued, more tears leaking from his clear blue eyes. "In the middle of it, he... he turned... he... oh, God." He was momentarily overcome with emotion, and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt her tiny hand gently wiping away his tears, stray strands of hair from his forehead and cheeks. Then, he opened his eyes again, gazing up at her with an expression that absolutely broke her heart. "He was me. Trish, it was me who... was doing that to you!" he exhaled with a choke. 

Trish's heart broke at his words, at the heartbroken, horrified expression on his handsome face. He seemed about two seconds away from going completely nuts and possibly even doing some harm to himself, she feared. It was so irrational. He hadn't done anything to her - at all - aside from be sweet and loving and protective. 

"Oh, baby," she crooned. "It's all right." She moved her face closer to his, so close that he was able to feel her warm breath. "It was just a dream. It's perfectly normal for you to dream something like that, especially after what you told me last night." 

"It... is?" he asked. He stared up at her almost uncomprehendingly, and she nodded. 

"Yes, baby. It's okay. And I don't hold it against you," she continued. "So, if that's what you're thinking, then just forget about it. I love you, Chris... You are a good man, and that was nothing more than a nightmare." Then, before he could utter another syllable, she pressed further, closing the tiny bit of distance between them and placing her lips down onto his. 

Part 20 

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	20. Chapter 20

**_A/N: Here of course is yet another story I haven't updated in ages and ages, but I had this chapter laying around and decided to update. Hope it meets with the approval of you guys. And thanks to Crimson Coin, Sierra-Raine, DreamingCowgirl, jennybenny, Prime Time, Legend Champion, Jennifer, ImissTrishStratus, CM Punk's sXe Diva and XtreMePeroXwhygeN for the reviews thus far. You guys rock! ;)_**

The morning came mercilessly, it seemed to Chris. He awoke feeling an odd combination of horror, disgust, contentment and warmth all at the same time - horror and disgust at the memory and knowledge of what Christian had done to Lita and what he'd dreamt he had done to Trish - and contentment and warmth due to the little blonde who lay still asleep in his arms.

God damn it... Would the feelings stop plaguing him? _Ever_? He knew Edge had to be feeling even worse... After all, it was _his_ brother who had committed such dasturdly deeds. The slimy, creepy little bastard had to be put in his place - not to mention in prison, where he belonged! Jericho thought he would be damned if he allowed it to happen a second time. And he would sooner die than allow Christian to choose himself another victim in Trish Stratus.

He stiffened at his own thoughts, reluctantly releasing the tiny blonde but feeling he had no choice. He had sit up - he was too tense to lie down now.

Trish stirred and came awake, rubbing at her eyes and yawning sleepily. She blinked and peered up at the man she loved, her head cocking to one side.

"Chris?"

"I have to do something, Trish... Edge and I..."

She nodded as she thought she had an idea of what he was talking about. God, how restless he'd been in his sleep for hours the previous night. He'd been positively tormented.

"... We have to stop him." He turned his crystal blue eyes toward her, fixing them to her brown orbs with an intensity that touched her heart.

Trish sucked in a breath, fear coursing through her. Christian was still out there, of course. Edge had tried to confront him last night, but he'd gotten beaten up instead - and then Christian had run off. He was still at large. It chilled her to the bone just thinking about it after the way he'd so brutally and callously attacked Lita. For goodness sake, he'd recently claimed - although it had all been an act - to actually _care_ about the redhead!

"Come on," Chris said, penetrating her thoughts, pushing back the blanket and getting out of the bed. There was a glint, a definite purpose in his blue eyes. "Let's shower and get out of here and back to Edge and Lita."

The little blonde nodded wordlessly and left the bed as well.

--

Lita opened her eyes reluctantly, but with much effort. She didn't feel rested at all, but how could she after what had happened to her? Her body was wracked with pain, her head no exception.

Initially, her vision swam but then cleared and she saw his face... He was gazing directly into her own with such concern and tenderness in his emerald eyes, she almost cried out.

Edge was awake, his face so near hers. His breath was warm against her face, his arms wrapped around her as she'd slept... And she felt so safe with him - so very safe.

"Edge...?"

"Lita..." he breathed. "... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"No," she protested, "you didn't." She lowered her gaze for a beat, then raised it and met his eyes again. "Th-thank you."

The blond man arched a brow in confusion.

"What are you thanking me for?"

Lita nearly winced as she kept her steady and unwavering gaze on his brilliant green eyes. She raised a hand to his cheek in spite of the horrible things she'd been subjected to the previous night.

"For being here," she said softly. "For making me feel so safe... for... for trying to protect me."

Her final five words echoed in the tall blond man's head.

_'For trying to protect me...'_

He felt like crap. He shouldn't have merely _tried_, he should have _succeeded_. He blinked with emotion as he gazed into her hazel eyes, fully aware of her small hand still on his cheek and, crazily, inappropriately, considering the circumstances, felt his lips being drawn to hers. They were mere inches away when a sudden knocking on the hotel room door startled them both.

Edge bolted up while the redhead scooted slightly away to the opposite side of the bed. He made his way to the door, his breathing slightly heavy.

"Who is it?"

"Edge, it's us," Jericho called from out in the hall.

The tall Canadian cast a lingering glance at Lita from over his shoulder as he unlocked the door to let their friends in. The redhead met his gaze instantly, emotion clearly written on her face.


End file.
